Posted by on Mar 6, 2017 | 14 comments


Well, I know that is not really correct at all because a rock cannot rock because it is already a rock but my rock and I, well, we rock.  It is only recently that I have discovered that on top of old Smoky (not his name, his real name is, well, we haven’t named him yet but if you have any ideas, I’m open to anything) I am near an air vent that blows warm air over my little svelte (haha) body and so I have chosen this peak on which to perch.  And purr. A peak on which to perch and purr and ponder and procrastinate and pout and…okay, okay, I get carried away sometimes.


I even have my kibble up here sometimes although mama thinks it’s pretty high up for me to go when perhaps the exercise I get climbing has exacerbated my tiny touch of rheumatism (whatever that is and exacerbate?  Uh, oh).

BUT, I have insisted that I hang out up there because of the nice warmth in this truly disgusting and way too long winter weather and if I can still climb, I climb.  I am, after all, from a long line of climbers–lions, tigers, bears.

NO, Loulou, you are not from a line of bears!

Okay, okay, scratch the bears, but my rock is my exercise and I climb it religiously just like mama does her pontes in the morning in bed.  I think they are bridges in yoga-speak, but she says it gets her rigid-overnight-starched-bones-and-joints moving better when she finally hits the floor.  I mean her feet hit the floor, not mama.

Hey, we all do what we can for exercise, right?  And when I can’t climb My Rock, you’ll know about it.


What’s mama doing?  If she thinks I’m going to use whatever that thing is, she is mistaken.  She can just bring my food to me up here.

And my nip toys.

And my quilt.

And my String.

And my hairbrush.

And my malt paste.

Loulou, dinner’s ready!

Uh, oh, on second thought…I’m outta here.

Going down is a lot easier that going up!


So I see my shot of vodka, but where’s dinner? AND WHERE’S THE OLIVE?


Oh, mama just came in to remind me that she wanted to share THIS with you.  One of my Italian cousins is in this film.  Maybe he could get  me a walk-on.